Chapter 22: Mass and the Agreement
"Mr. Adrian."
Rolls looked toward the source of the voice. Belin and Delia had both changed their clothes; they were now wearing black ruffled long dresses and sheer gauze hats, walking over from the far side of the cathedral square.
Rolls went to meet them, removing his hat in a polite salute.
"Good evening, ladies. We meet again."
Belin and Delia returned the gesture, and Delia asked, "Have you been waiting long, Mr. Adrian?"
"Not at all, I just arrived myself." Rolls smiled and gestured toward Saint Samuel Cathedral behind him. "The Mass is about to begin. Let us head inside."
"Ah, it's starting! Delia, I told you we were late," Belin said, turning to Delia with a slightly complaining tone.
Rolls waved his hand with a smile. "It's fine, you haven't missed the Mass. Besides, being late is a woman's prerogative."
Beside them, Delia looked on with admiration and whispered softly, "Emperor Roselle truly was considerate toward women!"
The Emperor again! Rolls thought. Is there anything you haven't said? And "considerate toward women"? Believe it or not, I'll translate your diary for you right now and show you what a "surprise" feels like!
Rolls gave a somewhat awkward smile and quickly changed the subject. "We should head in."
The three of them walked quietly into the cathedral. Outside the Main Prayer Hall, many people were already waiting.
After a short wait, Rolls and the other believers attending the Moon Mass followed a priest into the hall.
In the dim, tranquil atmosphere, they were greeted by a chorus of ethereal, synchronized chanting:
"The crimson full moon rises, reflecting upon the earth,
All have sunk into sweet dreams, dreaming of themselves,
Dreaming of parents, wives, and children; this is eternity..."
As the holy, rhythmic voices echoed through the hall, the congregants involuntarily felt a sense of peace settle over them. Their life's troubles seemed to fade away, and the various problems of the physical world no longer weighed on their minds.
Guided by several priests, they found their seats. In front of the altar, Bishop Electra, who was presiding over this Great Mass, held the Night Revelations and began a brief sermon.
As the sermon reached its end, priests brought out water and bread to distribute to Rolls and the others. This was the "Grace of the Evernight"—food shared between the living and the dead.
After consuming the plain bread and finishing the water, Rolls saw candles being lit one by one on the altar. Against the backdrop of darkness, they resembled the stars of the night, emitting a comforting warmth and light.
At this moment, Bishop Electra, the priests, and the entire choir chanted in unison once more:
"We shall look up at that night sky,
And tenderly speak Her name: The Evernight Goddess.
Aside from the Goddess, there are no other words,
May the Goddess, in the intervals of the angels' songs,
Pluck them along with the sweet silence,
And hold them in Her gentle right hand.
If She hears, the Goddess will surely answer,
And surely reveal a pure smile to the deceased:
'Come, rest, sleep soundly, my children...'"
The hollow, sacred voices drifted into the ears of every believer, appearing to resonate with every soul present.
Rolls felt his own spirituality undergoing a form of purification. Memories of the past month flashed before his eyes like a movie; his body and mind relaxed completely at this moment.
Then, a peaceful darkness appeared before his eyes—a darkness devoid of any sound.
Within the darkness, bodies lay there, faces pale but serene, as if they had not died but were merely in a deep slumber.
Rolls walked through this darkness with a settled, peaceful mind. Suddenly, he paused and looked toward the diagonal front.
There, in a place where Moon Flowers bloomed silently, sat an old man wearing a lawyer's wig and robes. It was Rolls's father—Mason Adrian.
His eyes were gently closed and a smile played on his lips, as if he were having a sweet dream.
Rolls closed his eyes, the holy and ethereal voice echoing in his ears:
"Cross your hands,
Place them upon your chest,
Offer that wordless prayer,
And cry out from within your heart:
The only home is peace."
He lowered his head, eyes shut, and crossed his hands over his chest, repeating silently:
"The only home is peace."
"The only home is peace."
This was a boundless dark plain, where clusters of Night Vanilla, Slumber Flowers, and Moon Flowers grew wildly. Though it teemed with life, the entire plain felt as silent as death.
A figure suddenly descended from the depths of the darkness. Though there was no distinction between sky and earth here, the figure seemed to come from the high-hanging red moon or the stars.
She wore a layered but simple midnight-black dress, adorned with countless brilliant specks, as if she had draped the starry night sky over her body. Her head was blurred and difficult to see clearly; one could only discern that she was a woman.
She gazed into another depth of darkness—a place quiet, profound, and seemingly void.
Suddenly, a distorted and blurry pale-gold figure appeared there. The surrounding darkness seemed to be ignited, yet it also resembled layers of black waves surging toward the golden figure.
The golden figure emitted an unusually viscous radiance. The heavy light, thick like grease, lunged toward the darkness, only to vanish instantly like a moth to a flame in the infinite void. It was as if invisible hands within the darkness were dragging that distorted figure into the depths, making it disappear bit by bit.
She remained standing on the boundless dark plain, watching. Her layered black dress merged with the dark plain, while the Night Vanilla, Slumber Flowers, and Moon Flowers became ornaments upon her gown.
After an unknown amount of time, the darkness quietly receded, and the pale-gold figure reappeared.
The golden figure emitted light once more, but it was no longer viscous; it was like a cold candlelight that might flicker out with a single breath.
The darkness stirred again, and the light on the golden figure vanished instantly. "He" found himself standing directly before Her.
The blurry light on the golden figure's face dissipated, revealing a countenance with black hair, brown eyes, and handsome features. It was a man's face. "He" spoke:
"Long time no see."
"His" voice was exceptionally grand, yet it did not echo across the dark plain. Total silence returned.
A trace of awkwardness appeared on the golden figure's face. Then, "He" said in a deep voice:
"I am here to fulfill our agreement."
The darkness around the distorted, blurry golden figure surged toward "Him" once more like a tide, beginning to dissolve the light upon his body.